Before the early morning drill begins IComplete my thoughts. The light growsDim the thin white screen flies downEver so quickly and heFlicks the overhead on, already bored,Gazing over the weary eyes of the twenty-something students.Hidden behind three othersI sit struggling to get in aJive to stay awake like aKite when the breeze stands still.Little by littleMy head begins to bob slowlyNot even aware.One by one they begin.PlungingQuietly to the tops of the hard desksRandom peopleStare into space minds wandering, day-dreamingTeacher barely tryingUttering statements in a monotoneVoiceWildly, the period ends with aXylophone pitch. Standing upYet not fully attentive we all head to the Zoo of the hallway alive again.